Shadows of the Hero
by WolfsLegend
Summary: Was he a Hero? To the people of this crumbling generation he was nothing but a legend; he was no "hero." He was just a man in a story book that Hylians read to their obnoxious children. He was just a dream… Nothing but a dream. That's right, he was just a fragment in this world. He was nothing put a pile of tarnished armor that had corroded and faded with time.


**I saw this picture of Saria stretching a hand out to the Hero's Shade and saying some text... it inspired me. At this time I cannot find the original artist of said picture but... hats off to you person!**

 **A _aaaaaa_ nd the text in italics all belong to OcarinaGreen on deviantART. I was searching for lyrics for Saria's Song (writer's block on that part) and thought that their ending in their song was brilliant. Also, I no longer have a dA and do not plan to get one so DISCLAIMER: I did not create the lyrics and I did not draw the picture because I'm not that awesome.**

* * *

 **Shadows of the Hero**

 ** _"_** _Younger days in the past do not last  
Soon they will only be memories  
I'll never forget our friendship  
Just please promise me that we will always be together  
Inside your heart." _

_–_ OcarinaGreen on deviantART

* * *

How many days had passed? How many memories had started to blur? How many souls had fallen by his blade? How many cherished friends had passed while he wandered around aimlessly, searching for nothing? He had lost count. He had stopped counting the deaths after the first one. He had stopped attending the graves of fallen comrades and yet he wandered, questioning his very being.

Was he a Hero? To the people of this crumbling generation he was nothing but a legend… he was no "hero." He was just a man in a story book that Hylians read to their obnoxious children. He was just a dream…

 _Nothing but a dream._

That's right, he was just a fragment in this world. He was nothing put a pile of tarnished armor that had corroded and faded with time. Even now he was picking off greenery—bothersome mold and ivy—from what remained of his chest piece.

He cringed at his very words as skeletal fingers brushed against the smooth shell of his remaining humanity. Unlike the Master Sword that he had returned to its rightful place after death, he had kept a hold of the Ocarina that had been given to him by a childhood friend. It was the only thing that reminded him that he had been alive… once… that he had saved a world… twice. Nevertheless, when he would get up from the tree stumps, the dewy grass, and up from the unmarked graves did he still insist upon haunting the Lost Woods. His heart was restless, his soul hungering for life. The remnant of a would-be-hero was empty, just like his armor and the soulless shadows of his being that floated within it.

What was he searching for? He had forgotten after the five hundredth and fiftieth day.

Shifting in his rusted armor—armor once worn by Hyrule's holiest of knights—did he draw his attention solely on that instrument. Of all the people and all the memories, he remembered the ones with his little, green friend the most. Such a tiny, ceramic tool… like his friend, it had saved him from so many things.

Well, it _had_ done its job when he needed it most, but when he grew dependent on it he lost _everything_. At the very memory, though it blurred at the edges just as the rest, he shook his head. That one red eye that struck out of the blackness that would be his face squinted. No. No. No. He wouldn't reminisce on his own ending.

A forgotten hero should never relive his death. He should never mull over such failure.

Then again… realistically he should have seen it coming. After years of walking the path of a knight, receiving gruesome wound after wound and surviving, and even saving the world for a second time… he should have seen it coming. Nevertheless, he had grown over confident in his skills and allowed himself to become weak in the mind and because of such flaws he had not seen the blade coming at his back. It went straight through him. Of everything he had been through a sword at the back had ended it all.

"At least the goddesses granted me a successor." His voice was thick, long, and scratchy. It was unused and dry, being spoken from a dusty, aging skull.

Through his life he had not given the world a descendant and for a time he thought that Hyrule would fall because of it. He was _the_ Hero of Time… and for a period he suspected that he would be the last Hero that Hyrule would ever see.

It had been a season's time since Hyrule had been saved yet again, but it was not by his decaying hands. No, it was thanks to that very successor. He had been able to pass on his skills and for that he was thankful. For the third time, he had saved Hyrule.

 _But still, a forgotten Hero._

The relic of a man would have mulled over that very thought if it were not for the tune that reached his nonexistent ears. It tugged at his whispering conscience, kicked metaphorical nerves, and made his dead heart tremble with a faint breath.

* * *

 _"Come in here  
Do not fear  
The song that the forest sings to welcome you  
(We welcome you)  
Listen to  
The music  
Be calm and let your heart sing along with it  
(Come sing with us)"_

* * *

One red eye blinked, becoming lost in the blackness before reappearing in a glowing hue of crimson. This song was familiar. In fact, did he not play it himself when lost in his depressing thoughts? He listened, craning his spine. The very movement gave a soft pop, but the sound itself did not deter the tune from ceasing.

* * *

 _"Hear the sound of the tree's dancing leaves  
The tune as the forest starts to sing  
Nature's heart is the drumming beat  
Join the dancing, join the singing, come and hear the calling of  
The forest's song"_

* * *

He only stood up from his perch on that very tree stump—a position he had claimed for over a month now—and looked on in disbelief as his little, green friend materialized from the depths of the forest. She looked just as he had left her, a young girl with the most vibrant of emerald eyes and forest-green hair. Strands curled at her cheekbones, hugged her pointed ears, and spiraled out beside her eyes. Her facial features were sharp, defining her youth, and her lips were curled up in that usual, welcoming smile. The only difference was that he could see the forest through her flesh, could see the sunlight through her hair. She took her steps slow, cautious, as if any sudden movements would startle the withering ghost and in a sense… perhaps it would. Only when she reached him did she stop not but two feet away.

"Child, are you lost?" He questioned. Perhaps he was now growing insane from the despair and the solitude?

That smile grew tenfold as she stretched out her right hand toward him, displaying it as if she desired his hand. He eyed it with his _good eye_ judgingly. He was a ghost… he could not touch another unless it was someone related by blood. His hand would surely go right through hers.

"Let's go home. Everyone is waiting… Link."


End file.
